


Sweet Dreams Turn Into...

by pressedbean24



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedbean24/pseuds/pressedbean24
Summary: ‘I wanted to paint something for you to hang in your place in LA. Something to make you think of me when you miss me’ Tobin says with a cheeky smile when Christen steps back to look at her face.‘I always miss you,’ Christen replies. It’s immediate and sure. Stated simply as fact, and said with a force that lets Tobin know she must mean it.________________________________Just a little something inspired by the song ‘Coffee’ by Miguel
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 20
Kudos: 209





	Sweet Dreams Turn Into...

**Author's Note:**

> I remember seeing a prompt request a while back on tumblr. And in an effort to push through my writers block (I’ve been trying for mooonths and this is the first thing I’ve finished lol), something sitting in my drafts got turned into this little nugget. 
> 
> I actually wrote it all by hand, typed it up, and only edited through once so apologies for any mistakes. I’ll try and fix them eventually. 
> 
> If you don’t know the song I highly suggest a listen before (and maybe even while) reading!
> 
> (Christen plays in L.A. in this universe)

Tobin is lost in a painting in her studio with the music up loud, the way she likes it when she’s working, when she catches her phone lighting up on her desk out of the corner of her eyes. 

When she sees the name and contact photo, she pauses the music and answers her call.

She’d spoken to the woman a few hours ago after her game, a tough loss on the road.

But she hasn’t heard from her since she was leaving the stadium headed back to the team hotel. 

Tobin assumed she had fallen asleep or something, it's happened a couple times before, after particularly rough games.

She answers with a confused smile on her face, it’s after midnight now.

“Hey gorgeous—”

“Open your front door,” she’s cut off by a somewhat out of breath Christen. 

The call disconnects before she can ask further questions, but she can hear the strain and urgency in the voice on the other line. So despite her further confusion she’s already abandoning her brushes and moving toward the front of her apartment. 

When she swings open her front door, Tobin barely has time to lower the phone that’s still held up to her ear before Christen is throwing her arms around her neck and crashing their lips together. 

Tobin stumbles back at first from the force of it all, but she only hesitates for a moment before kissing her back.

When Christen comes up for air, Tobin pulls back to take her in.

She’s dressed in cozy Nike gear and sneakers, hair still in the two braids she’d worn for the game. 

“You’re still supposed to be in Seattle?”

“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Did you drive here?” Tobin asks with her eyebrows raised. 

“I rented a car after the game and chugged a red bull on the way”.

That’s when Tobin notices the pure, unmistakable exhaustion on Christen’s face. And the redness in her eyes.

Tobin knows it isn’t just physical tiredness from tonight’s game.

“Chris—“

“I wanted to see you”, Christen cuts her off again. “I needed to see you,” she mumbles a little softer. 

Tobin just nods before stepping around her to wheel in Christen’s small carry-on bag that's still sitting in the hallway outside the loft. 

She closes and secures the door behind them with one hand, all while never letting go of Christen’s with the other. 

They eventually find themselves curled together on the couch, and Tobin knows from experience not to bring up the game.

Christen will talk about it if and when she’s ready.

And as much as she’s dying to know why Christen couldn’t wait the approximately 18 hours until her scheduled flight the next afternoon and elected to drive to Portland (alone) well into the night, she also knows now isn’t the time to push it.

Instead, she holds her girlfriend in her arms and kisses the top of her head, breathing in the subtle scent of the shampoo Christen likes to use when she’s traveling.

Tobin decides to be grateful for the extra hours they now have together. 

_She’s here._ That’s all that matters.

Things have gotten more serious between them the last several months. More intense. 

The ‘I miss yous’ more fervent, the time between visits dragging on more painful than it seemed to _before_.

Before meaning, before the first time they said **“I love you”** to each other. 

Christen is the one to finally break the silence as she plays with Tobin’s fingers that are currently threaded between her own. 

She scratches at a little bit of paint that's dried on Tobin’s thumb that she hasn’t had the chance to wash off yet, “what are you working on tonight?”

She angles her head back to look at Tobin when she doesn’t answer right away, and then leans up to quickly press her lips to Tobin’s as if she simply can’t resist. 

She’s given Christen a couple of paintings before, a few from her portfolio in college that Christen liked.

Back when Tobin was the quiet but charming art student working on her senior project, that somehow got soccer superstar and university darling Christen Press’ attention at a party. 

They dated until Christen graduated 2 years later. Until their very different careers lead them to very different lifestyles, and most importantly different corners of the world. 

Their paths crossed again some years later completely by chance, at a bar in New York City. 

Tobin in town for a gallery opening exhibiting some of her work, Christen for media and sponsorship meetings. 

The night ended in Tobin’s hotel room (it was the closer of the two to the bar), and with an exchange of numbers and a slow kiss goodbye. 

After a couple months of never ending text threads that became phone calls that turned into falling asleep together on FaceTime, Tobin booked a flight to catch one of Christen’s games. 

Now Christen has a toothbrush and designated drawer in her apartment, and Tobin has earned more airline miles than she knows what to do with as they squeeze in time together whenever they can.

Tobin is happy, happier than she’s maybe ever been and she’s absolutely beyond thrilled that Christen is here right now. 

But she’s also caught off guard, and the painting she’d been working on is not quite ready. 

Tobin smiles down at her girlfriend and briefly considers keeping it a secret a little longer.

But Christen Press is looking at her softly, waiting, and Tobin Heath has never been anything if not powerless to those eyes.

“It’s actually something for you,” Christen’s eyes light up brightly as Tobin continues, “it was supposed to be a surprise when you got here tomorrow so it’s not completely finished and has to dry.” 

Christen bites her lip before she leans back up and kisses Tobin again.

This time a little slower. This time a little deeper. 

“Can I see it?”, she whispers, smiling against Tobin’s lips.

She’s already smiling back because they both already know Tobin’s answer, and Christen stands up and practically pulls Tobin to her studio. 

Tobin lets go of her hands and hangs back in the doorway as she gives her girl a moment to observe the painting on the easel in the center of the room. 

It’s them. 

Splayed across the canvas in bursts of pinks and purples and oranges, hidden in the vibrant colors, Tobin has painted an abstract portrait of the two of them.

She’s poured her heart into this painting, and her heart soars with something like both pride and relief when she hears Christen’s gasp.

But Tobin knows from the way Christen freezes in front of the painting that she recognizes the reference photo Tobin has depicted.

It’s a Polaroid Christen snapped of them tangled in the sheets here in Tobin’s apartment, after a few weeks apart and a few rounds getting reacquainted with each other’s bodies. 

Christen found the classic camera on Tobin’s dresser and decided it would be fun and sweet to have a mini photo shoot. 

But there’s one photo in particular— 

Christen lost control of the shutter and slipped as Tobin latched on to sucked softly at her neck.

The resulting shot was a rather salacious close up that cut their full faces out of the frame, but somehow perfectly captured where Tobin’s mouth met the underside of Christen’s jaw.

It was just blurry enough to be artsy but still sexy, and if anyone else saw it they probably wouldn’t recognize the subjects. 

They spent 15 minutes arguing over who got to keep the picture, until Christen kissed her so hard she finally gave in.

Christen had no idea she snuck a picture of it with her phone, and now months later has used it as reference as a gift for her. 

She finally moves further into the studio and closer to her girlfriend when she just continues to stand there frozen.

“What do you think?” She finally asks softly, inexplicably nervous and self conscious. 

Christen reaches up to dab at a tear threatening to fall, and that might be all the validation Tobin has ever needed. 

When she finally turns to look at her, Christen’s eyes are glossy but so pretty, her smile a little bit wobbly, and then she says something Tobin absolutely does not expect. 

“I’m really glad I drove down here tonight.”

She closes the distance between them then in one stride and throws her arms up around Tobin’s shoulders. 

She buries her face into Tobin’s neck and clings to her so tight Tobin struggles to breath.

“I wanted to paint something for you to hang in your place in LA. Something to make you think of me when you miss me” Tobin says with a cheeky smile when Christen steps back to look at her face. 

“I always miss you,” Christen replies. It’s immediate and sure. Stated simply as fact, and said with a force that lets Tobin know she must mean it. 

She tucks back into Tobin’s neck though before she can respond, “I hope you know it’s going up in the bedroom.” This time her tone is teasing, and Tobin smiles to herself because that’s exactly where she pictured it hanging when she first conceptualized the idea. 

“It’s amazing Tobin, thank you.” And now her voice is filled with nothing but another emotion and it's one Tobin’s still getting used to.

Christen pulls back and a moment later they’re kissing again, and Tobin gets lost in the euphoria that is her girlfriends’ lips. 

Christen slowly trails one hand down over Tobin’s collarbone, all the way down her chest and to her firm stomach. 

Tobin tightens her grip around Christen’s waist, and then slides both hands a little further down. 

Not quite on Christen’s ass, but definitely resting dangerously low enough that she’d only try this is private. 

When Christen glides her hand back up Tobin’s stomach, she drags the fabric of her paint stained t-shirt with it. 

Tobin swears this woman’s touch alone could set her whole body on fire, and she really fucking loves it when Christen gets handsy. 

Somewhere in the back of her now very clouded mind, a small part of her brain is functioning and she has an idea. 

She pulls back from Christen just long enough to say, “ _Meet me in the bedroom. I’m gonna grab the camera_ ,” and then watch the woman’s eyes go dark.

____________________________________

Christen is laying on Tobin’s chest a couple hours and orgasms later, with a hand resting on her hip and softly stroking the skin there.

Tobin’s hand rubs gently down Christen’s back, and every so often she presses her lips softly to the top of her head. 

It’s comfortable, here in each other’s arms. That’s the only word Tobin has. 

And Tobin is an expert at being comfy: the queen of Nike sweatpants, master of the hard chill. 

But she’s never felt comfortable like _this_ before. 

She wonders if Christen feels like she could stay here forever too.

“Do you ever wish you could just run away?” Christen asks into the silence that’s settled over them.

_Apparently not._

Tobin tries to swallow down the panic that quickly makes an appearance at the question, Christen’s green eyes now looking up at her curiously. 

“Um, what exactly do you mean babe?”, she decides to play it safe before jumping to any conclusions. 

“I mean…”, Christen bites her lip and seemingly struggles over her words for a moment, as if she has to be extra careful about what she says.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear. Just for a little while, get away from the media and my trainers and coaches and the pressure and just…everything and everyone ya know?”

_‘Even me?’_ almost escapes out before Tobin can stop it.

“Sounds like you need a good vacation,” is what she says instead.

“Ugh yes please! As soon as the season is over, do you have any ideas?” 

“Why would any of my ideas or input matter?” Tobin tries and thinks she fails to keep the bite out of her voice.

_So she’s a little bit stung that her girlfriend basically just told her she wants to get away from her._

Now Christen is looking at her strangely, skeptically, like she’s trying to determine if Tobin is joking or not. 

“Umm, because if we’re going on vacation I assumed you’d want some say on where we go?” Christen answers slowly, and then her confusion slowly morphs into a smile as she seems to catch on to Tobin’s assumptions. 

“Tobs...baby. Did you think when I said I wanted to get away, that I could ever possibly in any universe mean that I wanted to get away from you?” 

She leans up and grabs Tobin’s face softly between her hands.

Tobin is forced to look right into her eyes, and all she can do is blush and stammer out, “well...I mean...you said everyone and... I didn’t want to like, assume--” 

Christen cuts her off with a kiss that leaves them both a little breathless when she finally pulls back. 

She lowers one hand down from Tobin’s face but keeps the other softly on her jaw as Tobin takes her time opening her eyes.

When she does, her breath hitches in her throat. 

Christen’s own eyes are so clear and green and _beautiful,_ she has to lean back in and kiss her again. 

Christen smiles but then her face turns more serious, and Tobin knows it means she has something important to say.

“Tobin, I meant it when I said I _always_ miss you. You might be the first thing in my life I’ve ever missed more than soccer. And to be honest it’s just sort of been messing me up. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the game. I always will. But lately I just feel like…”, she hesitates over her next words.

“I feel like my priorities are changing, or have changed. I don’t know. I just think I need a break, to escape it all for a bit. And when I think about getting away, you’re right there by my side. I daydream about getting away with **_you_ **Tobin.”

That last part swells something warm in Tobin’s chest, but it’s outweighed by the urge to cure the sadness in Christen’s voice.

Tobin knows athletes can experience burnout, but this feels like something different, something more, that’s been eating at her, and Tobin’s mind races to come up with a way to ease the furrow still in her girlfriend’s brow. 

“I have an idea,” she says suddenly, speaking before the thought is even completely formed. 

Christen’s confusion is clear on her face, but she looks at Tobin and waits for her to explain.

Tobin points to the window above the headrest of the bed, “pick a star. Any star, the brightest one. And close your eyes and imagine the most perfect beautiful planet you can think of. Your perfect utopian world.”

It’s a silly and ridiculous idea, but Tobin thinks that precisely why it gets a smile out of Christen in the dark of the room, and she leans up to look out the window excitedly like a puppy. Once she's apparently made her star selection, she slides back down next to Tobin and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Now tell me about it Chris.”

Christen opens her eyes to give a few disclaimers, “obviously on my planet there's no war or violence or bigotry and everyone lives in peace.” 

“ _Obviously_ ” Tobin laughs lightly because of course those are the first and most important things on Christen’s list.

She closes her eyes again as she resumes speaking more softy, wistfully even. 

“Every community and city that people live in is within walking distance of the beach. The temperature is always between 65-85 degrees fahrenheit, and it only rains in the fall for the perfect sweater weather, and it only snows around Christmas time. Football is still the world’s sport. French fries are the most popular international cuisine--”

That gets another giggle out of Tobin and Christen pauses to yawn through her own smile before she continues, eyes still closed.

“Women hold all the top positions in government and most businesses, so of course the entire world is prosperous and healthy. The ocean is always clean and warm, and the sunsets are gorgeous every single night.” 

The time her yawn seems to come from deep, and extend all the way down to her toes. And it’s like Tobin can almost see the sleep start to overcome her.

“That sounds like an amazing world babe,” she says softly. 

“Yeah...I think I’d like to go there with you”, Christen manages before yawning yet again, sinking into the pillow and fading fast. “Goodnight Tobs”.

Her breath evens out before Tobin can even whisper back “sweet dreams Chris.”

_____________________________

Tobin wakes first the next morning. 

It’s only happened a handful of times in all the mornings they’ve spent together, usually a result of Christen flying in from a different time zone.

She takes the opportunity to just look, just watch.

Christen’s breathing is soft and even, and the rhythm of it brings a special kind of calm to Tobin’s spirit this morning. 

She’s not sure how long she just lays there and watches her girlfriend sleep peacefully, early morning light filtering in through the curtains, before her bladder can’t be ignored any longer.

She heads to the kitchen after finishing her business and brushing her teeth in the bathroom.

She grabs two mugs from the cabinet and starts heating water for the french press she knows Christen only bought her so she could use it herself when she comes to visit. 

She uses some of the pre-ground beans roasted at one of their favorite local coffee shops in Portland, knowing that even though they both prefer freshly ground coffee, the sound of the electric grinder might wake Christen up.

She whistles to herself as she moves about the kitchen, conscious of keeping the tune quiet enough that Christen likely can’t hear it in her sleep from the bedroom. 

Half & half and one spoonful of sugar goes into one mug.

A splash of almond milk and no sugar into the other.

Christen is still in season, and Tobin knows how strictly Christen follows her nutrition plans. 

Christen is still fast asleep when Tobin returns to the bedroom, and Tobin convinces herself that the coffee is still hotter than Christen likes to drink it anyway, she can watch her sleep a little longer. 

Tobin on the other hand, can gulp down piping hot coffee black practically the instant it finishes brewing if need be. A trait she developed during her early days trying to make it as an artist, when inspiration hit at odd hours of the night and Tobin didn’t want to lose momentum.

She would work for days on end sometimes, fueled by caffeine and that desperate need inside of her to create.

Tobin’s grown as an artist since then, calmed down a little. Found her footing and her style.

And she’s certainly much more disciplined. 

She still stays up later than many and often tends to sleep until almost afternoon, but comparatively speaking her schedule is much more civilized now. 

Christen is definitely usually the early riser out of the two however. 

And whether Tobin is crawling into bed hours after Christen has already fallen asleep, or they fall asleep tangled together after sex, she almost always passes out basically as soon as she relaxes into the pillow.

She’s so rarely up before Christen that right now she really can’t bear to disturb the moment and wake her.

Tobin continues to sip her coffee as she sits up against the pillows, head turned slightly to the side as she takes in the woman in her sheets.

_My own personal angel._

She wonders what is it that has Christen so tired, normally never one to sleep in no matter what time she’s fallen asleep the night before. 

She assumes whatever it is, it's the same reason Christen ended up knocking on her door unexpectedly last night.

She doesn’t get much time for her curious thoughts to form any suspicions however, because Christen’s nose starts to twitch, and Tobin subconsciously holds her breath.

For a moment, she thinks it's working, if she doesn’t move a muscle, Christen will slip back into her deep slumber.

Her efforts are futile though, because not fifteen seconds later and her nose twitches even harder, and Tobin is absolutely powerless to stop the waking from happening and the swelling in heart as she watches. 

Watches as Christen’s breathing changes, and her brow starts to furrow adorably. 

She watches as Christen squints against the light even before she opens her eyes.

She rolls partly onto her back while she brings a fist up to rub at them. 

Tobin refuses to miss the moment, afraid to even blink.

She wonders if Christen is even aware of Tobin’s presence in the bed, but the question is quickly answered when she burrows down into Tobin’s side with a yawn. 

She tucks her nose right into Tobin’s ribs and throws an arm over her torso. 

She mutters something into the sheets, or maybe she’s just making unintelligible noises, Tobin can’t really be sure. 

But either way it's the cutest thing Tobin swears she’s ever seen and now the feeling in her chest threatens to burst right through. 

Tobin moves her mug to one hand, and uses the other to wrap around and stroke the part of her back she’s able to reach. 

She takes another slow careful sip of her coffee as they continue to just lay in comfortable silence.

Until Christen again repeats her mumbling into Tobin’s side, and it makes her softly chuckle this time.

“What was that love?” She coos softly above her. 

Christen just digs her nose deeper into Tobin’s ribs, but doesn’t say anything else. 

Tobin smiles and takes yet another sip of from her mug, before she tries to gently coax Christen again. 

“You okay down there sleepyhead?”

  
  


She pulls back and yawns again, and Tobin knows it's coming but still she isn’t ready for the moment Christe finally, _finally_ opens her eyes. 

She’s looked into those eyes so many times before and likes to consider herself an expert. 

But first thing in the morning, all sleepy and lazy and _bright_. 

This is something else entirely.

The smile forms on her face automatically and she fears her heart might actually shoot up out of her throat, so she swallows the overwhelming feeling down with a slightly too large gulp of hot coffee.

When she gathers herself again to look back down, she’s met with Christen pouting. 

A small laugh bursts out of Tobin at the sight, and it only makes Christen pout harder.

“Good morning gorgeous” Tobin whispers, and just like that the pout melts away. 

“Good morning” she croaks back in her raspy _vocal chords not awake yet_ voice, and Tobin probably shouldn’t find it as sexy as she does. 

She suddenly understands the appeal of morning sex. 

But Christen starts pouting again, and her beautiful green eyes fixate on the cup in Tobin’s hand. 

Tobin decides to have a little fun and very slow and very deliberately brings the mug to her lips. 

Christen’s eyes track her movement the whole way, and Tobin almost kinda sorta feels guilty. 

But her girlfriend’s tired morning eyes have her under some sort of charm and she also feels _giddy._

“Are you always this fucking cute when you wake up? Is this what I’ve been missing out on?” Tobin says with a cheeky smile, and Christen rolls her eyes.

But she’s fighting a smile as she finally starts to sit up, and Tobin can’t help but lean over and kiss her as soon as her lips are within reach. 

She keeps their lips connected as Christen fully pushes herself up, and doesn’t care to stop when Christen tries to mutter “I have morning breath” against her lips. 

She balances her mug in one hand and brings the other up to Christen’s jaw line, holding her there to kiss her even harder. 

They’re both in daze when finally pulling apart for air, and Christen drags her tongue slowly across her own bottom lip and Tobin watches the movement with hooded eyes. 

“Mmm, and you have coffee breath” Christen whispers into the space between them, before leaning back in to quickly kiss her again. 

“And I’m going to be really upset if you spill hot coffee on me before I even get a sip.”

Tobin moves the mug out of reach, “Um this is my coffee” she says as seriously as she can manage. 

But the flash of disappointment across Christen’s face is enough to nearly break Tobin’s heart.

And she doesn’t even try to keep up the charade any longer.

She sets her own mug on the bedside table so she can hand Christen the one she’s prepared for her.

Christen reaches for the mug like it contains nectar from the gods and she quickly turns back for her own mug again because the look on Christen’s face might be too much. 

She steadies herself with another slow sip, and she watches out of the corner of her eye as Christen mimics her movements. 

“This is perfect Tobin, thank you.”

“Of course babe, I should know by now how you like your coffee”.

“Yeah but still. A girl could really get used to waking up like this.” 

They both laugh, because they both know it will probably be a long while before Tobin ever wakes up first again. 

They spend a few more moments just sitting close and sipping from their individual mugs.

Until Christen breaks with a soft, more sincere, more serious, “thank you Tobin.”

“It’s just coffee babe.”

“I don’t just mean for the coffee.” 

Tobin just nods her head and stays quiet, not really sure what to say to that. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tobin settles on just outright asking. 

“It’s just...soccer stuff. It’s been a long intense year and there’s been a few moments where—“, she cuts herself off, unsure if she wants to or perhaps how to continue. 

But she eventually does. “For the first time in my career, there have been moments where I’ve questioned if it’s all still worth it. And I guess the question just scares me more than I expected.”

Tobin seems to sense that Christen still has more to say so she stays quiet. 

“You really scare me too…” 

The confession sucks the breath from Tobin’s lungs. 

“I scare you?”

“Absolutely terrify me,” Christen nods, finally looking into Tobin’s eyes again. “You always have. Sometimes I feel so fucking much for you I don’t even know what to do. I miss you so much sometimes that my bones physically ache and I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.” 

And that’s really a whopping confession. By the time Christen says the last bit Tobin almost misses it over the sound of her heartbeat now thumping in her ears. 

“Are you breaking up with me” she blurts out trying to fight off her panic and the last thing she expects is for Christen to laugh. 

It's a watery laugh and Christen looks at her fondly as she says, “no you idiot. I’m trying to tell you that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And it’s sort of all consuming.” 

It’s amazing how fast the heat spreads throughout Tobin’s body because, _Christen feels it too!_

Her face cracks into a wide grin she can’t contain as Christen wipes a tear from her eye. 

“I love you so much it hurts sometimes Tobin. And I want to be with you always. Or at least be in the same fucking state and not have to coordinate schedules 2-3 weeks in advance.” 

Tobin’s heart somehow both swells and breaks simultaneously, and she can’t for the life of her find any words as she puts together what Christen is really trying to say. 

_It’s just soccer stuff._

“Chris…”

“I don’t know how long I can keep playing soccer if it means being away from you” she nearly sobs out. 

Tobin swipes the mug from her hands and sets them both back on the bedside table. 

Then she scoops Christen into her arms and places what she hopes is a comforting kiss on her forehead. 

Luckily it seems to work and Christen’s tears thankfully don’t last long.

“We’ll figure something out babe, you aren’t giving up soccer for me. Or for _us_ or whatever argument you’re going to try and make. You still love it too much and you are too talented and have too many good years left to just walk away.”

“Tobin—“ 

“Christen no. You can’t”

Tobin knows Christen still needs soccer like she needs water and air, and there’s no way in hell she's letting her retire early just so they can be closer to each other. 

“Tobin it’s not like I could just ask you to uproot your life and move to LA or something.” 

But well...

“You could.”

Tobin’s career was mostly built in and is based in Portland, but she’s not completely tied down to the city. 

“Tobin…”

“You could though. Listen babe, Portland is great. But I don’t need to live here to work. LA and Oakland both have killer art communities and really I can do and sell my work from anywhere. A lot of my friends here have spread out over the last few years anyway, and the ones still here I can come back and visit. I bet my family would even visit more often if I lived in California rather than Oregon, and plus I could actually surf at the beach. It’s basically a no lose situation for me. You’re just a bonus at this point”.

Christen has been smiling wider and wider as Tobin lists off the reasons it actually all seems sort of perfect. 

“You’d seriously move to LA for me? For us?”

“Well technically, you haven’t asked me yet.” 

Christen rolls her eyes but then their smiles are pressed together and neither of them are sure who even leaned in first.

“Honestly Chris, I think I’d follow you anywhere,” Tobin says quietly when they separate. 

Christen takes a moment to look at Tobin, before she crashes their lips back together with enough force to press Tobin back into the pillows .

“So we’re moving in together?”

“I still don’t recall you ask—“ Christen silences her smart remark with another deep kiss. 

“Tobin Heath. Will you please move in with me? So I can come home to you after a hard trainings and fall asleep next to you every night. And in the morning I can kiss you awake, and nag you to make the coffee.”

Tobin’s smile is lazy and expectant as she waits for Christen to lean down and kiss her again.

And only after she does, does she finally give her answer.

“Christen Press, I can’t wait to make you coffee every morning.”

Christen smiles her smile that still takes her breath away every time. 

“And just so we’re on the same page, that painting is totally still going up in our bedroom.”

Tobin’s brain can’t help but get caught on one word, and she’s sure the smile on her face is more dopey than smug. 

“ _Our_ bedroom. I love the way the sounds.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you too Chris. So so much.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering about ‘You Got This Way About You’, I’m planning to wrap up the story most likely with an epilogue. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to update and finish 😔 Life in the U.S. recently has been....a lot. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and stay safe friends!


End file.
